


In the Quiet

by hheath541



Category: Castle
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 06:37:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2612003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hheath541/pseuds/hheath541
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It seems silly that they have this past that he doesn't even remember happening. She used to be afraid that he'd use the knowledge against her, but they know each other much better, now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a tumblr gifset. After alternate reality Beckett told rick about the book signing, I wanted to see how the real Kate would tell him. So, I wrote it.
> 
> http://hheath541.tumblr.com/post/102536663257/1x10-7x06-the-significance-of-castles-books-to#notes

It's been quiet for a couple hours. They'd planned on maybe watching a couple movies, but not even ten minutes into the first one, Rick had paused the movie and gone to get his laptop. More than used to his random bouts of inspiration, Kate got up to clean up the dinner dishes they'd left for later. By the time she's done loading the dishwasher and wiping down the counter, it'd been clear he was deep into whatever scene he was writing. So, she quietly turned on a couple lamps and turned off the TV. 

She's a few chapters into the she'd grabbed at random when a scribbled note in the margin catches her attention. Turning to the front of the book, Kate's momentary confused by the lack of inscription, before she remembers that her copies of his books are in storage. This is Rick's copy. Sometimes, he'll go back and read one of his books, making notes in the margins about things he wishes he'd fixed or done differently, and sometimes notes for future stories. She always loves the insight those notes provide, but this book is different. This book has always been extra special to her, and she suddenly wants to dig her copy out of storage.

Ignoring the impulse, she goes back to reading. Several pages later, another note distracts her. This one is in the middle of one of the love scenes, and is obviously much newer. She remembers the night they'd tried that particular move, with amusing results, and wonders how long before that Rick made the note to ask her about it. Knowing him, it could've been anytime since they've been together, or maybe even in the years before. Really, she could see him writing it at any point since they met. Well, since he remembers them meeting.

It seems silly that they have this past that he doesn't even remember happening. She used to be afraid that he'd use the knowledge against her, but they know each other much better, now. He'd found out her username on his fansite when he'd seen her browsing the forums, one night. He knows that she owns a copy of every book he's written, and has taken the time to paste custom made ownership stickers in them. He's never made fun of anything once he knew it was truly important to her, even in the beginning. She knows there's nothing to worry about, and it suddenly seems important that he knows this piece of their shared past.

Kate lays the book facedown in her lap to save her place, and tips her head up to look at him from where she's reclined against his shoulder. "Rick, did I ever tell you that we met before our first case?" His attention is still mostly on his writing, but he makes a wordless sound of question, so she continues. "It was a few years before we met. Before I made Detective. I was still sneaking into the file room to look into my Mom's murder. Every spare moment that wasn't spent staring at facts I'd already memorized, was spent reading. Your books."

He goes still. All typing stops, and he puts an arm around her to pull her closer. She snuggles closer, and smiles up at him. "I waited for each one to come out, and then I'd find a way to get to a bookstore to buy a copy the day it came out, even if it meant skipping lunch and taking a cab across the city. That night, I'd stay up and read the whole thing. I'd read and reread them all whenever the lack of new leads got to me. I had to replace a few of them because the pages started falling out, or I fell asleep and dropped them in the bathtub. Your books gave me hope that good would always beat evil, and that every crime could be solved. 

"When I heard you'd be doing a signing on my day off, I knew I had to go. I stood in line for an hour, just to have you sign my book. It wasn't even the newest one. My Mom read your books. Well, she read at least one of your books. I think she tried telling me about it one of the times I called home, but I was a busy college student, and I just wanted to complain about my classes and tell her about some boy I was dating. I didn't even pay attention to what book it was. I just remember her saying it wasn't exactly good, but it was entertaining." 

Rick makes a sound full of insulted pride, but doesn't interrupt, so she rubs her cheek against his arm to appease him. "It was more than a year before I decided it was time to pack away her things. Dad was, well, he wasn't in any state to help, so I spent a weekend carefully boxing everything up and stacking everything in her office. It took a few years for us to be able to go through those boxes and actually get rid of anything. She always had this stack of books on her dresser. Just things she'd either recently finished, or was planning to read. Something about those books just wouldn't let me pack them away, so I put them in my room. 

"A few weeks or months later, I don't even know how long it was, I was missing her, but it was more nostalgic than weepy, so I picked up one of those books and started reading. I just wanted to feel connected to her, and we used to always share books, so it felt almost like I could look over and share a line that caught my eye or ask about something that happened. I spent a week reading every book in that pile, and then I went back and started to reread them. I'd been through them all at least twice before I remembered our conversation. I can't know for sure, but I like to think she was talking about your book. It quickly became my favorite, just because she'd tried to get me to read it. I found your other books, and read those. They were all better written, but I still kept going back to that first one. I cried when the pages started falling out, and taped it back together as carefully as I could.

"The copy I had you sign was one I bought to replace it, but that didn't matter. When it was finally my turn, I was so nervous I forgot the speech I'd planned about how much I loved your books. All I could do was blurt out my name. I tried to stop you, but you'd already started writing. Even though it wasn't the same copy, it was still my Mom's book. So, you ended up writing, 'To Kate's Mom, Joanna.' I think I got as far as the door before I started crying. I went home and reread the whole thing. Even after I stopped looking into my Mom's case, I still read your books when I needed to be reminded that good can win."

They sat in comfortable silence for a long moment before Rick starts to fidget, and she stifles a grin. It's a few seconds more before he finally speaks. "I wish I remembered. I wish I'd written something a little more elegant. Maybe something about your smile, or your eyes, or how strong you are. But, you have to tell me. You can't leave me like this. Which book was it? Was is Derrick Storm? _Death of a Prom Queen_? _In a Hail of Bullets_? Oh, I know. It was _Flowers for Your Grave_ , wasn't it? That's why you recognized the crime scene. It was, wasn't it?"

Kate picks the book up off her lap and taps the front cover. "Nope, it was _Hell Hath No Fury_."

He stares for a moment before grinning. "Really? And you still fell in love with me and my books? Well, at least that explains how you recognized Fisk's murder. I can't believe THAT'S the book your mom wanted you to read. It's bad. Like, really bad. I did like zero real research for that book. All of my information about witchcraft came from bad horror movies. I'm surprised real Wiccans didn't picket my book signings. You must really love me, if you still reread it. There are literally dozens of better books to choose from. Well, two dozen, which is still more than one dozen, so, yes, dozens of better books. Wait, I helped pack your books, why didn't I see this signed copy?"

It takes her a second to respond, picking her words carefully. "It...didn't survive the fire. The bomb went off right next to my bookcase. Even the few books that weren't completely burnt were still too damaged to keep. I still have my Mom's copy, though. It was in a box at the back of my closet, so it was only a little smoke damaged. I never quite got around to replacing it. At first, I had so many things to replace that it just never made it on the shortlist. By the time I was trying to rebuild my book collection, I just wasn't able to find a copy. Then, we were together, and I could read it anytime I wanted, so it stopped being important."

She almost falls off the couch when Rick twists and starts digging through the drawer in the end table. A few seconds later, he holds a pen up triumphantly, then holds his hand out for the book. He spends several seconds writing in it, then gives the wide flourish that she recognizes as his signature, before leaning down to give her a kiss and handing the book back. She stares at it in wonder until he starts typing again. When she finally opens it to read what he wrote, Kate isn't even surprised by the tears. The love and tenderness he's shows her no longer surprises her, but she hopes it never stops effecting her.

_'To Kate's Mom, Joanna. Thank you for giving me love of my life. I promise to take care of her. I know I would've loved knowing you, and I hope you approve of me. I plan to spend the rest of my life making your daughter happy.  
\- Rick Castle'_


End file.
